𝐅𝐚𝐦𝐢𝐥𝐲 𝐈𝐬𝐧'𝐭 𝐁𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐈𝐭'𝐬 𝐖𝐡𝐨 𝐘𝐨𝐮'𝐝 𝐒𝐩𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐈𝐭 𝐅𝐨𝐫// 𝐓𝐖𝐃

S2: No More Kid Stuff

(Naomie)

All of my markers have dried up.

Mrs. Lori came into my room to offer me breakfast earlier. I ignored her. Everyone makes there way in and out of the RV, talking about me as if I can't hear them. Apparently I'm experiencing emotional detachment, whatever that means.

I'm not detached, I'm tired.

I'm angry.

And I miss him.

Everything in this RV smells like him, reminds me of him. I want to stay in here because its the only place he's still at.

Daryl thinks I hate him. Which is far from the truth. I know he had to do it. I just wanted to say goodbye.

The two people I love the most are dead, and I never even got to say goodbye.

Pops funeral was this morning. I went, but I didn't say anything. I sat beside his grave while Mr. Grimes spoke words about Pop, they were all true but hearing them aloud made the pain in my chest hurt worse.

Once Mr. Grimes was finished everyone returned to their tents, but not before laying a hand on my shoulder or head and apologizing for my loss, even if I didn't say anything back. The only people who didn't come up to me where Shane, and Carl. I have no clue why Carl is avoiding me, but right now I couldn't really care. He's saving me the energy from having to pretend to be okay.

Before Glenn left he placed Pops bucket hat on top the make shift cross. I stared at it for five minutes before Daryl forced me to look at him. He didn't say much, and he didn't expect a reply. Instead he carefully took my wrist and rested it on his knee, then pulled out a watch from his vest pocket. He didn't explain what it was or why he was giving it to me, because I already knew. Without a word he wrapped the watch around my wrist and tightened it enough so it wasn't loose. It was way to big for me, the extra parts of the band hung at the end. Daryl took out a knife, sliced the end bit off so the watch fit perfectly. Then he grabbed my hand and led me back the RV.

I wanted to color one last picture for Pop, to add to the collection on the wall of the people we lost. My entire pack of markers came up dry. So instead I chose to lay on my bed and stare at his watch instead, and repeat the story that was engraved in my head back to myself.

God how much I hated that story.

Now I would give anything to hear him say it at least one more time.

___

(Daryl)

"Ricks cutting Randall loose." I say to her. She doesn't react, just keeps staring into the wall, the covers tucked closely to her face like she's trying to protect herself from something.

She hasn't moved since the funeral, much less said a word. Hershel says its emotional detachment and she'll need time to cope. He explained his daughter Beth had went through something similar after we cleared the barn.

Naomie's not Beth though. She wasn't lead to believe their was hope for her Pop. She knows he's gone, and she knows he's not coming back. I also know she hears every word I've said.

She's pissed at me, no doubt. But I made a promise to watch after her and this time I ain't failing. Even if that means I got to force her to cope in a way that ain't killing herself.

"Hershel's moving us into the house. Beth offered to share her room with ya." I take a seat across from her. "Lori said you didn't eat. But ya gotta eat something, otherwise you'll make yourself sick."

She stirs a little, lifting the blanket to cover her eyes.

"Naomie sit up."

When she doesn't I finally take the blanket out of her grasp, and gently grab her arm to yank her up. She still doesn't face me, her gaze holds at my shoes, and her small hand tries to pry mine away.